


Therapy

by helsinkibaby



Category: The Following
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: comment_fic, F/M, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike visits Debra every day. One day he brings a present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "authors choice, authors choice, art supplies"

He visits every day, sits beside her and talks to her, even though she never talks back. She just sits and stares out the window, eyes blank so that Mike doesn't even know how much of the view she's taking in - he's fairly sure it's something; after all, when they'd tried to put her in a room on the other side of the building, the side that looks out into the woods, she'd screamed the place down. 

They'd sedated her then, and ever since, she hasn't said a word. 

He talks to her, stuff about his day, what he's working on, the latest thing his dog's chewed up - he thinks he got a ghost of a smile when he told her about the case reports and Hotch seemingly being torn between believing him and not, but that might just have been wishful thinking. 

He's been doing a lot of that lately. 

And a lot of just thinking - Debra is never far from his thoughts. 

One day, he's walking down the street and he walks past a bookshop he's never seen before when something catches his eye. He stops, not sure what it is, but then a phone conversation from Dutchess County echoes in his mind and he smiles. 

That day, as he leaves, he places the parcel on her knee. "It's a sketch pad... some chalk pastels... I know you used to draw... a long time ago. Thought you might enjoy it again."

She doesn't speak, doesn't blink and he's not surprised. 

But when he comes back the next day, she is bent over, sketching furiously, brow drawn in concentration. He says her name and she doesn't jump, looks up at him and shows him what she's working on. 

It's a portrait of him and it's good. 

But when he sees her smiling at him, it's better than any work of art. 


End file.
